


Blow Your Mind

by JeanieNitro



Category: You Could Make a Life Series - Taylor Fitzpatrick
Genre: (of course), Evan's not around, Experimentation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Roman just wants to take care of him, Roman loves Harry so much, and also make him beg, but in a very happy way, harry is a brat, so they're getting a little rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanieNitro/pseuds/JeanieNitro
Summary: Evan's gone for the week. Roman's gotplansand a secret box under the bed. Harry doesn't know what's about to hit him. (An exploration of what might happen the first time Harry & Roman have sex without Evan).





	Blow Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Love love love these two with all my heart. Inspired by the following quotes from the epic sex scene at the end of FTNS:
> 
> Roman:  
> "Roman swallows.“Good enough?” Harry asks. “Or do I have to beg or something?" Roman’s — Hold that thought"
> 
> Harry:  
> "if Roman kisses him every time he does want to shut him up, arguments are going to be a lot more enjoyable in the future. Probably a bad idea to give Harry incentive to argue. He’ll never stop."
> 
> Thanks to DizzyRedhead and Neversleepingagain for encouragement and beta-ing!
> 
> Title is from the song "Blow Your Mind (Mwah)" by Dua Lipa

It’s weird, not having Connie around. He’d left earlier that morning to visit his parents for a week. Roman hadn’t seen any reason to change their routine up more than necessary, so he and Harry had still gone for a run with the dogs this morning, worked out with their separate off-season trainers, napped lightly on the couch while watching old episodes of Mythbusters. Dinner at Roman’s (since as much as he was getting better, Harry still couldn’t cook for shit). Dinner had been oddly subdued, which was weird, given how quiet Evan usually was

Roman shuts the fridge on the dinner leftovers while Harry slips the dishes into the dishwasher and pushes it closed with a little snap. Roman crowds over into Harry’s space a little. Harry looks up at him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly in suspicion. 

“So what do you want to do tonight now that Connie’s not here?” Roman says, trying hard not to think of the discrete little box under his bed or the way his heart is starting to pound in anticipation.

“Why, you got plans?” Harry asks scornfully. (Well, not scornfully for Harry, Roman supposes.)

“Well, uh, I was thinking,” Roman says, continuing to push into Harry’s space until the fronts of their thighs are basically touching, “we could get up to some of the stuff we can’t get up to when’s Connie’s around.”

“Like what?” Harry asks, scowling.

“Well,” Roman says, sliding a hand onto Harry’s hip, “you know Sweetheart. He hates it when we go at each other, especially during sex. But I know you like it when I hold you down.” Roman keeps his voice low and soothing, like he’s trying to to talk down a wild animal. “I bet you’d like it even rougher, huh?” he says, and reaches up to grab the side of Harry’s face, curling his fingers into the back of Harry’s neck and stroking his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone. He’s expecting Harry to shake him off, or at least snap at him, but instead Harry’s staring at him with the glassy eyes of a mouse staring at a snake.

The moment lasts for a fraction of a second before Harry blinks, his gaze snaps, and he grins up at Roman. “Why, you finally hoping to see if you can make me beg?” he asks, smirking (and oh, if that doesn’t go straight to Roman’s dick). “Good luck with that.”

Roman surges forward and kisses Harry, a fierce, restless energy starting to rise within him. He suddenly needs to get his hands all over Harry, and starts sliding his hands up and around Harry’s back, crowding him back up against the counter. Harry is willing and pliant beneath him, kissing him back with a hunger that matches his own. Roman slips his thigh between Harry’s legs and brings his hands up on either side of Harry’s head, gripping him firmly. Things are progressing a little faster than Roman thought they would and he figures it’s time to get Harry upstairs. He pulls back and looks at Harry, who is already flushed, his lips red, his shirt askew. He looks so good like this, and Roman wants more, now.  
“Go upstairs to the hall bathroom, get yourself clean, and wait for me on the bed,” Roman says.

A moment of indignation flashes across Harry’s face before his expression hardens slightly and he turns without a word, stalking upstairs like an offended cat. Hopefully he’s going about this the right way; he’ll just have to see.

Roman heads upstairs to the master bedroom to dig the box out from under the bed and prepare some things he’d purchased recently after some particularly exciting fantasies. There are some leather wrist cuffs with buckled straps, which he fastens to the headboard. There is, of course, the lube, which he pulls out of the nightstand and sets it next to the lamp, and finally, there is also a vibrating prostate massager, which he clicks on for half a second to check that it still works, then hides underneath the blanket folded at the foot of the bed.

Harry appears in the doorway just after Roman stands up, running a hand through his dripping hair. There’s a certain determined set to his jaw, a line of tension in his shoulders. He glances at the cuffs on the headboard. “Looks like someone’s feeling ambitious. Got grand plans for the evening?”

“Well, that depends,” Roman says, managing to keep his heart neutral in a way his heart does not mirror.

“On what?” Harry asks.

“How good you are for me,” Roman says.

“Fuck off,” Harry says immediately, like a reflex.

“Sounds like you want to do things the hard way,” Roman says, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Bless Harry and his contrariness.

“So do you actually have a plan or are you just here to talk me to death?” Harry says.

“Oh, I’ve got plans,” Roman says. “On your knees,” he says, gesturing to the ground in front of him with a nod of his head.

“Or what?” Harry asks.

“On. your _knees_.” Roman says, adding more emphasis. “Don’t trust me to make it worth your while?”

“As if I ever trust any of your plans,” Harry mumbles under his breath, but falls to his knees on the carpet all the same. 

Roman reaches into his gym shorts and pulls his dick out. He steps over to Harry, who raises an eyebrow. “Just your dick?” Harry asks. “That’s all you’re taking out for this?”

Roman opts not to reply, sticking his dick in Harry’s mouth instead, pumping shallowly a couple times until it gets coated in spit before thrusting almost hard enough to make Harry gag. He sets a decently fast pace after that, just enough for Harry to breathe but hard enough to make it difficult. “Sure is nice to hear you quiet for once,” he chirps. He gets a scrape of teeth in response, not quite enough to count as a bite but enough to be uncomfortable. Time to change tactics.

“You know,” Roman says, a little breathless, “you really don’t seem to be taking this seriously. I think it’s about time that I showed you that I meant it when I said I wanted you to be good for me.” He pulls out of Harry’s mouth and tucks his dick back into his shorts; he grabs Harry by the biceps and hauls him to his feet. Harry tries to wrench out of his grasp, but Roman has a good enough hold on him that Harry can’t slip out, and Roman swings him around, pushing him backwards towards the bed. Once Harry’s legs hit the edge of the mattress, Roman lifts Harry’s shoulders and softly slams him down to where he wants him, picking Harry’s legs up and scooting them over as well before rolling on top of him to pin him down. Harry is scowling up at him, but judging by his flush and the hardness of his erection, that’s an “I’m turned on and mad at you for getting to me like this” and not a “Roman what are you doing this is dumb” scowl. (Well, it might partly be that, but Roman wouldn’t expect anything less from Harry anyways.)

“Change your mind about being good for me yet?” Roman asks, knowing that it will tear Harry apart trying to decide if he should be good because it will prove Roman wrong or if he should continue being contrary because he can’t let Roman tell him what to do.

“Get on with it, Roman,” Harry snaps.

Roman just smiles and pulls one of Harry’s hand up towards the headboard, buckling it into one of the cuffs. Harry isn’t actually fighting him all that much, and so he gets the other hand buckled in without too much fuss as well. Once he gets both arms buckled, Roman sits back to admire the way Harry’s freckles splash across his skin, the way his skin has flushed in patches all the way down, the way his dick is hard and starting to leak, bobbing up in a way that belies the casual nonchalance Harry’s face is attempting right now.

“Is this your grand plan? Just sit and stare at me all day? Or are you actually going to get anywhere near my dick,” Harry says.

Roman smiles. “All in good time,” Roman says. “I’m pretty sure you offered to beg for me.”

“In your dreams,” Harry says.

Roman slides down and pulls Harry’s legs apart, pushing Harry’s knees up towards his chest. He walks his hands down Harry’s thighs until he can get a grip on Harry’s ass, parting the cheeks firmly and leaning forward. He can feel Harry’s pulse pounding through the femoral artery, so much faster than normal. There’s a stifled intake of breath as he gets all the way forward and runs the tip of his tongue over Harry’s freshly-cleaned asshole. Roman smiles and starts working harder with his tongue, licking up and around and over and into. He can tell that Harry is trying to stay silent and still, trying not to show how much this is affecting him, but Harry is twitching back and forth slightly and his hips are bucking up as if he can’t quite contain himself, can’t quite manage to stay quiet.

Roman pulls back, grabs the lube from the night stand, flicks the cap, and squeezes a good drizzle onto his fingers. He kisses his way up Harry’s stomach and up to his chest as he rubs his finger on Harry’s hole, biting down on Harry’s pec just as the finger slips inside, making Harry arch upwards abruptly. “Jesus,” Harry murmurs, probably to himself.

“Look at you,” Roman says, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes between kisses. “You’re trying so hard to hide it but I know you’re enjoying yourself. I know you love it when I hold you down.”

“Fuck off,” Harry gasps out, and it sounds more like an endearment than a curse.

Roman continues to nibble along Harry’s neck, putting a significant amount of his weight on Harry’s chest as he pumps his finger in and out. He crooks his finger just enough to brush against where the prostate probably is and is rewarded when Harry gasps slightly and jerks his hips upwards by a fraction. He strokes it once more, then adds another slick finger. He works both fingers for a while, brushing Harry’s prostate occasionally but never more than a couple times. 

He gives Harry’s collarbone one last kiss with teeth before pulling out his fingers and sitting up. Harry’s breath is coming fast and he’s flushed all over now, patchy and beautiful, his eyes closed. When Roman stops, Harry cracks one eye open suspiciously, then the other. “If you’re planning on fucking me, you’re not quite there yet.”

Roman smiles. “Don’t worry, I know. I had something else in mind. But before I do anything else, I’m going to remind you about colors -- yellow, I slow down or pause, red, I stop, no matter what, ‘kay?”

“You trying to scare me or something?” Harry asks.

Roman leans forward on his forearms and walks himself up until he’s staring into Harry’s eyes from half a foot away. “I know we’re kind of joking around here but I’m serious. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to, especially not if you end up doing it because you think it’s some sort of thing where you have to win or I’ll hold it against you or something. Promise me you’ll say something if you’re not into it or I can’t do this. Okay? Promise?”

“Fine, geez,” Harry grits out. 

Roman is still skeptical, because he knows Harry is so goddam contrary he would rather endure intense distress rather than admit defeat, but he had to try.

“Get on with it,” Harry snaps.

Roman can’t help but grin at his ridiculous boyfriend. “So eager for it? I never knew you were an easy fucker under that prickly exterior. Maybe I just want to sit and stare at your beautiful eyes.”

“Fuck off,” Harry says. Roman kisses him instead, lingering gently for a few seconds in the fullness of Harry’s lips.

Roman pulls off and slips down to the bottom of the bed, pulling the prostate massager out from its hiding spot, keeping it low so Harry can’t see it. This is the part Roman isn’t quite sure about, but he presses on regardless. He adds some lube and slips the toy into Harry, making Harry’s hips jump upwards abruptly.

“What the fuck is that?” Harry yelps. 

“You’ll see,” Roman smirks. He pumps the wand back and forth a few times, zeroing in on the exact location of Harry’s prostate. “You ready?” he asks.

“For what?” Harry asks back.

Roman flicks the switch to the first level of vibration. Harry’s hips snap upwards, and Roman flicks the vibrator off.

“Jesus!” Harry says.

“You like that?” Roman asks. He takes the grudging silence as a yes, trying to trust that Harry would actually tell him if he didn’t. He rubs the massager over Harry’s prostate a couple of times, then flicks the vibrator on again. 

Harry arches off the bed again and a little keening noise escapes his lips. Roman leaves the vibrator on for a couple seconds longer, rubbing it up and down continually, then turns it off and stops all movement. 

Harry wimpers slightly, probably inadvertently, if Roman knows him at all. Roman turns it on and begins stroking again, seeing if Harry is more used to it yet. 

Harry doesn’t jerk so suddenly this time, and eventually he does seem to settle into it, hips jerking steadily against it. Roman can tell Harry is getting very close now; his cock is rock hard and leaking, his breath is coming as fast as if he’d just gotten off a hard shift on the ice, his eyes are starting to scrunch up -- 

So Roman turns it off, pulls it out, and rolls away so that he’s not even touching Harry at all.

The muffled scream of frustration Harry lets out is music to Roman’s ears. Roman scoots up the bed, still not touching Harry at all, and says soft and low in Harry’s ear, “Going to beg for me now?”

“Fuck no,” Harry grits out, turning to look Roman right in the eye.

“Looks like we’re not finished, then,” Roman says, brushing a hand through Harry’s damp hair. He stays like that for several seconds, stroking Harry’s hair soothingly until his breathing slows a little and he backs down from the edge. Roman presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and resumes his post at the foot of the bed. He adds more lube to the vibrator and slips it back in again, testing to see how sensitive Harry still is. 

He has fun for a little while watching Harry’s cock jump every time he clicks the vibrator on. Eventually he leaves the vibrator on low continuously, flicking it up to the higher level for the merest fraction of a second to watch Harry’s body jerk in response. He keeps it up until Harry looks about ready to come again, and once again he turns the vibrator off and pulls it out.

Harry practically growls at him, letting out a rough, exasperated sound that goes straight to Roman’s dick.

“I don’t want you to come until I’m inside you,” Roman says. “But I’m not going to fuck you until you beg.”

Harry raises his head wearily, still panting hard. “Really?” he asks, in a way that was probably meant to be sarcastic but doesn’t quite make it.

“Yep,” Roman says.

“Fuck this,” Harry says. He opens his mouth as if to say something else, but ends up dropping his head and staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room. He closes his eyes as if he has a headache (or as if he’s about to do something he doesn’t want to do). “Fine,” he says, although it comes out more like a sigh. “Please will you fuck me now?” It’s probably the most sarcastic request Roman has ever heard from anyone who wasn’t a teenager. Nevertheless, it does something very pleasant to his dick, and he suddenly would very much like to be naked and fucking his boyfriend.

Some of his feelings must have shown up on his face, because Harry lights up a little. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Harry says. "You're secretly a controlling little fucker, getting off on other people begging you for things. No wonder you're the rookie wrangler, all those young guys hanging on your every word and jumping to your every whim."

Roman surges forward and kisses Harry to shut him up, trying to assert dominance with his mouth but only getting bitten in return. “Why don’t you try that again,” Roman says, looking down at Harry.

Harry grins up at him and says in an only slightly singsong voice, "Please, Roman. Please fuck me. I am dying to have your giant cock inside me. I think about it every day and I can never get enough of it. Please, please, please fuck me. I'm gonna die if you don't put it in me right this instant." 

Roman’s dick is tenting his gym shorts, painfully hard. “Well since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can oblige.”

“Oblige? Pulling out the big words now?”

“Trying to make me change my mind?” Roman says, but he’s already struggling out of his shirt, shucking off his shorts. 

“Look who’s the eager one now,” Harry says.

"If you're coherent enough to talk, I'm doing this wrong," Roman murmurs, mostly to himself, but Harry snorts.

Once Roman is free of his clothes, he pours more lube on his fingers and slips three of them in, working carefully until he feels Harry’s muscles start to relax, making sure to just brush Harry’s prostate every so often but not more than that, until Harry is writhing beneath him again. Roman lays down on top of Harry as much as he can with his fingers in Harry’s ass. “You want to try asking again?” Roman says.

"Last. time. . not . good. enough. . ?" Harry gasps out. Roman brushes Harry's prostate again and Harry gasps for real. "Fine. Fine! Please. Roman. Fuck me. please. I swear to God. Roman."

 

"There we go," Roman says. "I knew you could be good." Roman pulls up and reaches for the lube, pours some into his hand, and slicks up his cock, rubbing the lube until it's warm. He rests the head of his cock gently against Harry's hole, smiling as Harry bucks against him, trying to get closer. "So good for me," Roman murmurs. "Look at you just dying to take my cock."

"Roman!" Harry grits out. "Please!"

Roman nudges slowly in. Harry is so hot, so tight. He sinks in by inches, waiting until he feels the slight relaxation to finally slam all the way in. Harry groans, arching his back. Roman sets a fierce pace, slapping against Harry's ass. He leans over Harry, pressing his forearm onto Harry’s chest, letting it support a good portion of his weight. 

Harry is moaning in earnest now, practically writhing as much as the wrist cuffs and Roman's weight will allow. Roman can feel himself losing the rhythm, feel himself tipping towards the edge, but he tries to hold on. He wants to make sure Harry comes first but he's not sure he's going to make it, when Harry comes suddenly with a shout. The tight pulsing around Roman's dick is enough to tip him over the edge as well, gasping as he curls into Harry's stomach, Harry's orange fur rubbing softly against Roman's face.

Roman pulls out slowly, still twitching a little. Harry groans as Roman slips out of him. Roman grabs some tissues from the nightstand and cleans himself and Harry up as best he can before tossing then vaguely in the direction of the trash can and scooting up to unstrap Harry's hands from the bed.

Harry lets his hands flop down once they're released, apparently too blissed still to use his muscles, so Roman counts that as a good thing. Roman scoots up next to Harry and puts his arm across Harry's chest, presses gentle kisses to Harry's jaw. "Wow, you were so amazing," he murmurs between kisses. "So hot. So good. So perfect."

"'s okay, you can stop," Harry mumbles back. "I don't think I've got anything left."

"M saying it because it's true, idiot," Roman says, nuzzling into Harry's neck. "Evan's great and all but I can't believe I got you out of this too. How the fuck did I get so lucky?"

"You have Evan and you think you're lucky to have _me_?" Harry says in quiet disbelief, and it breaks Roman's heart a little.

Roman pulls Harry's shoulder down and rolls halfway on top of him so he can look Harry right in the eye. "Hey."

"What?" Harry murmurs, trying to turn onto his side again.

"Hey, I mean it, this is serious," Roman says.

Harry sighs, stops trying to roll over, and looks up at Roman. "What?"

"You are an amazing boyfriend and I'm so lucky to have you in my life. My life is so much better with you in it and I would hate to have to ever have to go back to life without you." Roman can't quite tell if Harry is blushing or not since Harry is still flushed from sex, but it seems like the red turns even darker.

Harry rolls away for real this time, and Roman settles back down into his position of big spoon. "Fuck off," Harry says, but it's the gentle, amiable fuck off that Roman knows really means the opposite.

"I love you," Roman breathes into the back of Harry’s neck, not quite daring even to whisper.

"Eh?" Harry grunts, already half asleep.

"Nothing, go to sleep," Roman says. Roman drifts into sleep as well, utterly content and so full of happiness and love that Harry, for all his grumpy exterior, has opened himself up enough to let Roman in.


End file.
